by Xavier Neal
Arik grins again and has another sip of his beer. “Not gonna lie. Pretty good.”
“What exactly are you doin' now?”
“Good question,” Zane adds. “When you left you ghosted us.”
Brock tosses a card in the pile. “What the fuck happened to loyalty?”
“Give him a break. He was just tryin' to do what he felt was right for himself,” my poor attempt at defense is met with scowls.
“Guess you still like the way his sac feels in your mouth,” Chance chuckles between bites.
“Fuck off,” I grump. “And I fuckin' fold.”
“I play piano at this hotel during the week. Weddings and parties when I get booked. Things have been really good.”
“And even better once your girl forgave you,” Chance taunts.
He tosses more money into the pot before giving him the finger.
“What about you assholes?” Arik questions as Zane folds. “How have things been around The Castle?”
“Same shit different shifts,” Zane casually answers.
“Except that French kicked out a client for the first time in....forever,” Chance adds.
The recalling that the client not only fucked me over at work but also outside of it has me tossing back the end of my beer.
You know what I don't like even more? She reminds me of what I imagine my ex would've turned into had things kept goin' between us. Misery would've looked like heaven in comparison to how I would've ended up feelin'....unlike Rory who makes me happy. Pure, unadulterated happy. This fuck up moment aside.
“I've never seen her remove a client,” Arik sighs, tossing another chip in the pile.
Brock mimics the action, which is when Chance folds. “Hasn't happened much in the last few years. When she first opened, it happened a bit more frequently. She didn't hesitate to enforce her rules any more than she hesitates now.”
Arik throws more onto the pot and after Brock matches, he says, “Boom Daddy!”
To no surprise Brock's face remains stoic as he lowers his cards. “Royal Flush.”
“Son of a bitch!” Arik shouts and tosses his hands in the air.
The rest of us break into laughter.
Down side of playin' with the beast. Whether he has a great hand or a crappy one he always plays the same way. He has no tell that we've been able to figure out, which is a pain in the ass. Once he took us all for a thousand dollars with a pair of twos. I wanna ask him if he grew up a card shark, but as you can tell, he's not really the interview type. Hell, neither am I.
“Speakin' of the removed client. Ran into her at a weddin' last weekend.”
“What?” They croak in unison.
“You were at a wedding?” Chance's face scrunches. “Why the hell would you go to one of those?”
“Rory's friend was gettin' married-”
“And who is Rory?” Arik wiggles his eyebrows at me.
“My girlfriend.”
“What? You thought you were the only one dumb enough to get one?” Chance mocks.
Feels like it was a dumb decision now. Feels like maybe they were right when they said we were a one night stand that lasted too long. I hate fuckin' feelin' like this. The only thing worse than bein' crazy about some chick is bein' crazy about the chick and knowin' she's not crazy 'bout you back.
The thought makes me stand. “I need another beer.”
Zane states, “I need to go. I have somewhere else to be.”
“Somewhere with real food?” Arik's joke makes Chance shoot him the finger.
“You're all welcome for the free food and drinks by the way.”
“We didn't eat anything,” Brock's point breaks us into light laughter again.
Chance grumbles, “You all drank like saltwater fish in the damn sea.”
Once I've had another beer successfully touch my lips, I give my best friends a once over.
Two fuckin' years. For two fuckin' years they've been like family. They've been around for holidays and birthdays. Poker nights and cookouts. For two goddamn years they have been like brothers to me. The way Sam used to be when we were younger. Protective. Helpful. Honest. How can I stand here and even consider sayin' goodbye to them?
I grunt and have another sip just as Zane exits.
“Might wanna slow down,” Chance scolds from the other side of his island. “You're gonna end up looking like one of the Macy's Day floats in the parade. You forget we have to work tomorrow night?”
Thought we'd take a holiday? Thanks for attemptin' to make me laugh.
“No jus'...” Clearing away the clouds in my head, I shrug. “Been a shit week.”
“Before this turns into a tampon commercial, I'm gonna bail too,” Brock announces. “Come on camp counselor, cash me out and then give your Buddha brotherhood bullshit lecture.”
“How many times do I have to tell you I'm not a Buddhist? I'm a free spirit,” Chance clarifies as they head off to the front room where all the actual cash is. “Organized religion wears on the soul.”
Arik gives me a head nod. “Woman problems?”
“I don't need Midol. Thank you.”
He smirks and leans down on his forearms. “Meant with your girlfriend?”
I have another sip.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Shaking my head, I look down at the empty sink in front of me.
Chance is a bit of a neat freak. Never seen a dirty dish or spot in this apartment we didn't create.
“Alright. Free words of advice-”
“Good because you're basically forcing me to swallow 'em.”
Arik rolls his eyes. “Communicate. Whatever's up your ass, tell her. It doesn't fucking matter if you're pissed off you had to do a load of dishes or she forgot to suck your cock during the Monday night game. Tell her what's bothering you and deal with it together. That's the only way relationships ever really work. When they're worked on together.”
And isn't that just the fuckin' problem punchin' me in the gut. I don't know if Rory really wants to do this whole together thing. She's spent so much time bein' this beautiful blue eyed independent spirit that maybe being together is killin' who she really is. Maybe the dick at the weddin' was right. Maybe she's only stayin' tied down because somehow I'm forcin' her too.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. As soon as I pull it out, the sight of my brother's name causes me to glare.
He's been avoidin' my phone calls ever since French told me he was sniffin' around.
“Gotta take this.”
“Is it her?” His eyes light up.
Putting my beer down, I shake my head and joke, “This isn't a romantic comedy your girlfriend is makin' you sit through as punishment for not takin' her to the opera or some shit. You can dial back the excitement.”
Arik shoots me the finger at the same time I answer the call. “Nice of you to call me back.”
“Been busy,” Sam's antsy voice says.
I step onto Chance's patio, the crisp air smacking me sharply in the face. “Mama would have your hide for sayin' you’re too busy for the fam.”
He grunts, “I don't wanna fuckin' hear it from you, Hunter. I'm at every 4th of July cookout. I'm choppin' wood. I'm the one pantin' like a dog dyin' of a heat stroke to help out whenever they need somethin' and not even gettin' a goddamn thank you.” Sam snaps, “What do you want? Were you callin' to tell me you're not gonna take the job? Wanted me to be the first to know?”
“Callin' to warn you to stop lookin' into me before you cross a line you can't come back from.”
“You threatenin' me?”
“I'm tryin' to help you,” my accent comes out stronger than intended. After giving my face a minor scrub, I sigh, “Stop diggin' around Sam, on where I am, what I'm doin', and who I'm doin' it for.”
“Why?” His voice perks with curiosity. “Breakin' the law? Tarnish' the Montgomery name?”
“No worse than you are gettin' mixed up with drug dealers.”
The radio silence on t
he other end of the phone confirms what I was praying French was wrong about.
Which obviously was my mistake.
“And how do you know about that?”
“Like I told you,” I start slowly. “Stop diggin'. And if you need help to get yourself out the trouble you've slipped into-”
“What the hell do you know 'bout that?”
“I know how much money you owe. I know I've got it to give to you if you jus'...stop diggin'.”
“Pay me off money?”
“Help save your ass money.”
The next line is mumbled, “Should've known you of all people would be the one willin' to offer help instead of lecturin' me for screwin' up to begin with.”
His admission lifts my eyebrows.
Does Pop know and refuses to help him? What the hell is goin' on back home?
Sam's demeanor shifts. “I'm not the only one with secrets in the Montgomery dynasty. Hell, you're the one out somewher' hidin' yourself 'cause you ain't man enough to be a part of this fuckin' family. Don't worry about me and my mistakes. Worry about yours because times tickin' and you're gonna have to fess up one way or another.”
The click I receive shuts my eyes tightly.
Great. The last fuckin' thing I needed was one more tug at the noose lingerin' around my goddamn neck. Maybe I should just let him have the job. Tell Pop he needs it more than I do. That it'd mean more to him, even if I don't know that last part to be true. At least then I know he'd be safe. At least then I wouldn't have to worry 'bout what happens if some drug dealers get a hold of him for not bein' able to pay. At least then I would know I'm doin' right by somebody instead of wrong by everybody.
Rory
Opening the steel double doors to my fridge, I frown at the emptiness inside.
It's been a long week with no time to swing by the grocery store. I've been downing coffees and living off of variations of takeout for the past four days. Even now, I'm only in my apartment because the next delivery isn't scheduled to come in until closer to six tonight, then it'll be back in my cave. I'm a little more exhausted than I used to be pulling so many days back to back without a real break. It's like my body misses the good night's sleep I usually get with Hunter. Well, it needs to get its shit together because who knows when or if I'll see him again. The blow up at the wedding was the last time we saw each other. In my defense, I have been working an insane amount of hours all week. I wasn't actively avoiding him even if I am thankful for the space. It's weird when I'm around him, ya know? When we're together I'm not the old Rory terrified I'm going to grow bored of looking at the same face more than once in bed. I'm not the old Rory afraid of normal couple activities like watching Law & Order before falling asleep together. Shit at some point I even let my mind wander to what kind of Christmas gift to get him. Christmas! That's weeks away! Do you know how many things can happen between now and then?! I've never planned that far ahead for anyone! Not to fucking mention I loathe that holiday. But that's just the thing about being with Hunter...He makes it feel amazing and natural to think about more than the moment. Problem is, that's not who I am. I'm definitely the right now kind of girl. And I don't believe in pretending to be someone you're not. What? No. Of course, I haven't been pretending, but you understand what I'm saying. I appreciate the space to get back to the real me. Changing? Well...maybe a little bit more than I wanna admit. Not sure if I wanna be committed to those changes. To anything really.
The heavy knock on my front door grabs my attention.
Told Brian he could bring me boring leftovers from his parents’ house. I didn't need to feel included in the traditional family dinner.
Strolling over to the door, I announce, “Coming.”
The minute it's open, Hunter cocks a grin. “Now there's somethin' I haven't heard in a while.”
His comment gets a giggle.
He lifts up a bowl in his hands. “Happy Thanksgiving? I brought you some homemade chili. Didn't take you for a fan of the traditional turkey and stuffin'.”
I move out of the way to allow him to come in. “You're definitely right about that. Except for pecan pie. I am a sucker for pecan pie.”
As timidly as he was when asking questions when we first started dating he questions, “Can I ask why?”
I lean against the back of my gray cloth sofa. “Because it's like sex for your tongue.”
The word grabs a groan out of him like I hoped.
Total fact about the pie, but I did choose the words I knew would have the biggest effect. His big arms around me before bed aren't the only thing I've missed.
Hunter wets his lips slowly, clearly struggling to focus. “I'm more of an apple man myself. My grandma used to make it with all the freshest ingredients including soaking her apples in a bit of bourbon.”
Helplessly I smirk. “Grandma knew a thing or two about cooking I see.”
“Don't worry. We weren't a bunch of drunk kids jus' runnin' 'round on the holiday,” he chuckles. “Now how about I heat you up a bowl of this while you grab a big blanket for us to watch a Christmas movie under?”
The suggestion causes me to release a happy sigh.
That sounds perfect.
“Bowls are in the cabinet by the far wall.”
Quickly, I go grab my comforter, wiggle out of my lounge shirt and shorts and put on my favorite over-sized sweatshirt before bouncing back into the living room. When I arrive back, I notice Hunter's jacket is draped neatly over one of my bar stools, and his back is leaned against my counter.
He looks like he belongs there, doesn't he? Like this is the most natural place in the world for him to be. Isn't there some way to be unique and free spirited while having someone around who's willing to brush your wings and keep you from flying too close to the sun or is that just a fairy tale?
The microwave dings and he promptly retrieves the bowl. Before he can catch me spying on him, I flop down on the couch and make sure to move the foot stool over for us. Hunter makes his way over doing an impressive balancing act of a towel, the bowl, toast, and a bottle of water.
“Now I know your thoughts on regular chili,” he starts to explain placing all the items on the coffee table. “So given your love of spicy foods, I think you'll really enjoy this one.”
Intrigued I prompt, “Why's that?”
The towel lands on top of the blanket before he places the bowl on it. “It's got a hint of ghost pepper in it.”
“A hint?”
“Enough,” he clarifies and continues making a picnic in my lap. “Brought you some Texas Toast to have with it.”
Impressed and pleased with our choice of holiday meal, I smile proudly.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Sugar.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Cowboy.”
A hint of relief appears to flood his chocolate colored eyes and I find myself secretly longing to always be the one who can soothe him.
Oh what the hell is wrong with me? Can't be my hormones can it? It's not that time of the month yet. Shit. My pill. Need to take it.
I shove a bite of the warm creation into my mouth in hopes of redirecting my thoughts. The sensation that floods my pallet shuts my eyes on a long hum of satisfaction. The flavor of the meat, beans, and cheese alone is enough to outdo all I've ever had before but the tingle of the pepper purring at my senses is definitely what puts it at the top.
“Oh my God,” I whimper after swallowing my mouthful. “Tell me there's more than this.”
Hunter stretches his arm around the back of the couch. “There's a bowl full in your barren fridge. Where's all your food, Sugar?”
I shrug and have a bite of toast. “Been a busy week.”
He takes the opportunity to prod, “Has it really?”
“Yes.”
“You're not...you're not exaggeratin' it to avoid me? To avoid...discussin' what happened last weekend?”
The subject causes my body to shift and slip another spoonful into my mouth.
I'd share, but...this is my Thanksg
iving meal.
“Look, I'm on my knees sorry for the shit I said after the wedding.”
My attention remains on the bowl I'm staring into.
“I overreacted. It's not like it's the first time someone's degraded me for my choice in my line of work. I jus' hated that you were being treated shitty too because of it.”